


a kiss between bros

by robokittens



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Platonic Kissing, canon-typical alcohol use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4642812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/pseuds/robokittens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He presses a kiss to the top of Bitty's head, and the person with the mohawk sitting next to him gives him a sharp elbow to the side. "No non-game kissing," they remind him, and Shitty laughs. Rules! Draconian rules and framework for Spin the Bittle. Bottle. College is <em>awesome</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a kiss between bros

They've been playing Spin the Bottle for like fifteen minutes and Bitty's already gotten kissed twice. "More like Spin the Bittle," Shitty crows after Bitty sits back, red-faced, from an impressive lip-lock with a girl Shitty recognizes from some of Lardo's art shindigs. He's not sure if she's an artist herself or just likes parties, but either way her giant purple afro makes her easy to recognize. She's touching up her equally purple lipstick in a cat-shaped compact as Bitty sits back down.

It's a good party, as frat parties go. There's a diverse crowd, which Shitty can always appreciate, and the booze is flowing freely, which Shitty can _definitely_ always appreciate. He's well into his third cup of whatever this frat's version of tub juice is. It's fruity, and tastes non-alcoholic in a way that promises to be truly devastating. For now, it's making him all touchy-feely.

"You're awful," Bitty mumbles. He rubs the back of his hand across his mouth as he plops down next to Shitty, and Shitty slings an arm loosely around his shoulders. 

"Guilty as charged." He presses a kiss to the top of Bitty's head, and the person with the mohawk sitting next to him gives him a sharp elbow to the side. 

"No non-game kissing," they remind him, and Shitty laughs. Rules! Draconian rules and framework for Spin the Bittle. Bottle. College is _awesome_.

Bitty getting kissed means he's the next to spin, and he barely leans out from Shitty's grasp to give it a twirl. The bottle spins in two big, loose, wavy circles before it settles down. Shitty blinks at it a couple times, but yep: it's definitely pointing right back at him. He grins.

"You'n'me, Bits!"

Bitty mumbles something that sounds like "Aw, gosh," because he's actually the cutest fuckin' thing, and his lips are wet and liquor-sticky against Shitty's cheek.

"Gotta be on the lips," the mohawked Kiss Police sitting next to them says.

Shitty laughs, and Bitty disentangles himself from Shitty's arm. Shitty taps himself on the lips with a pointer finger, and he laughs again when Bitty dutifully leans in and presses a kiss there. "Bits, my man," he protests, "C'mon. Let's see what you got."

They're so close, it takes no effort for Shitty to move in for the kiss. Bitty's mouth is slick and sweet. He shivers when Shitty licks along the seam of his lips, and when he finally parts his lips he makes the sweetest little sound. Shitty wraps his arm back around Bitty and pulls him back in, and Bitty's arms wind around his neck. They're stickier than his lips, sweat-damp, but Shitty's too busy tracing his tongue along Bitty's teeth to notice.

It's all quiet, just his breath and Bitty's breath and the sounds of their lips, and then suddenly someone _whooop!_ s and all the noise of the party comes crashing in again.

Bitty pulls away, laughing, and Shitty lets him. "Aw'right, man," he says, and holds his hand out for a fist-bump. Bitty bumps him obligingly, still laughing. He's so red. It's so fuckin' cute.

Shitty spins, and the bottle lands on a dude who looks like he could be defined entirely by the word "meathead." He has a buzzcut. He is fucking huge. His smile, when Shitty crawls over to him, is even bigger. Dude, as it turns out, is a _phenomenal_ kisser, if a little heavy on the tongue.

— 

Shitty's straight, is the thing. He's thought about it — he's spent a _lot_ of time thinking about it, and come to the tragic conclusion that he's a straight cis male. He just … likes kissing. Likes kissing a _lot_ , and will kiss pretty much anyone who'll consent. He's pankissual, maybe.

And yeah, he's thought about making out with most of his friends. It's an academic exercise, for the most part; or it's half academic exercise and half that maybe he's not kissing as many people as he'd like. He's considered the possibility that it's a little creepy, but since he doesn't tend, or intend, to act on his kissy thoughts he's not _too_ concerned.

So sure, he's thought about kissing Bitty. He never really thought about it seriously — Bits is too smart to go for straight boys, for one thing — but Spin the Bottle is a magical fuckin' game.

— 

It's a ten-minute walk back to the Haus and Bitty, flushed with alcohol, is doing his level best to make it take twice as long. He's alternating between hanging off of Shitty and spinning around with his arms out like Mary Tyler Moore. If that's a thing Mary Tyler Moore did? It seems right to Shitty's booze-addled brain, but that's admittedly an era of television he's a little shaky on. He's not sure if that's more up Jack or Holster's alley, but either way Bitty's twirling his way down Jason Street.

"That was nice," Bitty says. It's the first thing he's said in a while, and Shitty actually stops walking to take stock of the situation.

"Nice?" he ventures.

"Kissin' you." The alcohol brings out the Georgia in him, his voice all soft and slow and glowing in the moonlight. Shitty is pretty damn drunk himself. 

"I thought ..." Bitty continues, waving a hand through the air vaguely. "I thought your moustache would be all tickley. But it's not. It doesn't. It's nice."

Shitty laughs, but he can't help the swell of pride over his facial hair maintenance skills. "Thanks," he says, pleased.

Bitty tucks himself back up against Shitty's side, wrapping an arm around his waist. It's enough to throw Shitty off-balance, and he stumbles a little, pulling Bitty tighter as he half-trips over the sidewalk. Bitty's flush up against him when they've got themselves righted, and he blinks up at Shitty, eyes bright behind his lashes.

"Why Mr. Knight," he says, drawing out his vowels so long it has to be deliberate, "you plannin' to kiss me again?"

He hadn't been planning to, but now that it's on offer, Shitty can't help but lean down and brush his lips against Bitty's. He'd planned to keep it light but when he moves away Bitty fists a hand in his shirt, pulls him back down. Bitty's lips open under his; Bitty licks into his mouth; Bitty groans and tugs Shitty tighter up against him.

Shitty runs his hands down Bitty's sides, lightly through his shirt. Bitty shivers and pushes in still closer. They're kissing in the middle of the sidewalk with the moonlight bright around them, and they're halfway home, and Shitty runs the tip of his tongue along the length of Bitty's. 

"You're more aggressive than I'd thought," he says, when Bitty finally pulls away for air. They're still pressed up against each other.

Bitty laughs. It sounds a little awkward, self-conscious, and Shitty frowns. He presses his face into Bitty's hair.

"Not that you've thought about it," Bitty says. He sounds sad. That won't fuckin' do.

Shitty thinks about the number of dates that Bitty's been on, as far as he knows; he thinks about the number of first dates and the number of second dates, and his mental math indicates there are far too few people thinking about kissing Bitty.

Which is weird. It's weird, is the thing; the dude seems eminently kissable. Is very kissable, it turns out. Shitty puts a finger under Bitty's chin and tilts it up. "'Course I have," he says, and kisses him again.

Bitty shudders against him. He bites at Shitty's lip. Shitty had thought Bitty would kiss real soft and gentle, but he was wrong, so fuckin' wrong.

It's still nice out, still tank top weather (Bitty's got on long sleeves, but even he's got them rolled to the elbow), and Shitty can feel Bitty's nails digging little moons into the tops of his shoulders. His neck is starting to hurt from leaning down. They're pressed all up against each other, and he can feel Bitty's legs starting to shake. It would be easier to do this sitting down — or lying down, but that would be taking it a step too far. He likes kissing, but he knows himself well enough to know he wouldn't go further with a guy. Not even Bitty.

"C'mon, Bits," he murmurs into Bitty's mouth. "Let's get back to the Haus."

Bitty pulls away so quickly Shitty's worried he's offended him somehow. But his eyes are wide and bright, and his smile is, too. "I should probably get to sleep," he says, and it sounds like a confession.

He wraps his arm back around Bitty, who presses into his side like he'd never left. "Yeah, let's put you to bed, bro."

Bitty makes a little sound, half-amused, half-questioning. Shitty laughs.

"Your bed. You're welcome to sleep in mine, but —" He gestures grandly with the arm not around Bitty's shoulders. "Alas, I remain heterosexual."

Bitty scoffs, which Shitty guesses is fair, given the circumstances. He's certain that sober Bitty will be very respectful of his sexual identification. Bitty is a solid dude like that.

"Sometimes bros just kiss other bros," he continues. "It's a fine tradition, dating back to terrifying British boarding schools and also the Greeks. Although the Greeks were a little more homo," he admits. He keeps up a narration about platonic dude-kissing, most of which Bitty has probably heard from him before, until they arrive at the Haus. He has to let go of Bitty to fish his keys out of his shorts pocket.

They stop in the kitchen for some water, and Bitty eats a leftover slice of Key lime by the light from the window while Shitty leans against the counter and watches him. They've fallen silent, and it's in silence that they trudge up the stairs to their rooms. Bitty stops in the hallway.

"Hey," he says, sounding almost shy. "Thanks. I had a good time tonight."

"Hey." Shitty grins. "Me too."

He thinks about kissing Bitty again, thinks better of it. Mostly. He grabs Bitty's hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles — and Bitty laughs, louder than he probably meant to, loud enough that it would probably echo if the Haus was the kind of place that echoed, instead of being full of too many boys and all of their stuff. But still. It's good to see the smile on his face.

He drops an exaggerated bow and swaggers off, backward, down the hall to his own room. He only bumps into the wall once. He hopes they didn't wake Jack.

Inside, he leans against his shut door, presses his fingers to his lips, and smiles. A good time tonight. Yeah. College is awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> because, i mean, why not? a world of thanks to [aweekofsaturdays](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aweekofsaturdays) for the beta!
> 
> also i'm [on tumblr](http://robokittens.tumblr.com).


End file.
